


So This is Love

by Bodldops



Category: Robin Hood (1973)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bodldops/pseuds/Bodldops
Summary: The Christmas fair has come to Nottingham, and Maid Marion can hardly resist a day to enjoy the excitement.  Perhaps, perhaps, the magic of the season can find her as well.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	So This is Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syrena_of_the_lake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrena_of_the_lake/gifts).



The noise of the market is almost overwhelming after the quiet life inside the castle, almost too much to take. It is exciting in the same way – like walking near the edge of a cliff with the breeze coming up from the sea, or standing in a field as a lightening storm rolls in. Beyond the usual merchants, outsiders have come for this Christmas fair, leading to a bustling market beyond what Nottingham can usually boast. There’s a sense of joy as well that has come as the holidays near, compounded with relief as the Sheriff’s relentless badgering of Nottingham’s poor eases to keep from scaring off the merchants bringing extra coin to town. 

Marian, properly bundled against the cold by an impressively broody Lady Kluck, clasps her paws in delight. 

“Oh Klucky, isn’t it wonderful? It’s even bigger than last year! Oh, those lanterns are darling!” She exclaims, not even waiting for a response from her lady-in-waiting before hurrying into the fray, ignoring the squawk of alarm that rises in her wake. She knows Lady Kluck would prefer she stay safely a step removed from the crowd, but this is one of the few chances she has in the year to explore outside of the castle, and she intends to enjoy herself thoroughly. 

And the little hand-carved lanterns are terribly adorable. 

After the lanterns (of which she has a couple sent to the castle, for her quarters), there is a merchant with bolsters of cloth in a wide variety of colors and patterns, ranging from a more hard-wearing weave to a particularly beautiful silk in a gorgeous pink that she makes a note to possibly come back for later. After that she inspects the wares of a fruit merchant, his voice raspy against his tusks but enthusiastic as he explains how he managed to transport oranges from Spain. She has to buy one, of course, savoring the sharp citrus scent as she cradles it between her paws. 

Around her, the town bustles – a small fluffle of young rabbits flit across the square, the youngest hollering in their wake about being left behind. A small family of turtles take their time perusing the blacksmith’s wares, peering carefully over a selection of hard-wearing hoes. A pair of lanky town guards watch with a lethargy that seems to be one part disdain to three parts sunning in the thin winter sunlight. 

A soft tapping cuts through the noise, a rough staggered rhythm. Marian turns to look, curiously peering through the crowd. Finally, she spots him – a ragged-looking old fellow, bent and cautious as he makes his way through the fair, his bent tin cup held in front of him like a talisman. For a brief, bright, heart-stopping moment she thinks that maybe it is him – maybe it is Robin, he has found her at last, she can finally tell him how much he has been missed… but no. The beggar is a fox, it is true, but no one could fake such misery.

“Alms, alms, alms for the poor.” He croaks as he walks. The poor fellow! Blind, if his cautious pace is anything to judge by, and clearly paw-sore as he gingerly steps along the ice-hard ground, his tail dragging along sadly behind, so often in danger of being stepped on by the crowd. She frowns, moved to pity, and figures there must be enough in her purse to spare a few coins for this downtrodden creature. Lady Kluck manages to halt her before she hurries over, her feathers ruffled both by chasing her lady around the fair all morning, and with alarm with this newest enterprise.

“Show some caution, my dear, he may be a footpad playing the innocent, trying to lure you closer.” Lady Kluck advises in a low voice, giving the beggar a beady stare. “A ruffian of the lowest sort.” Her agitation shows in her roughening accent, riled to her lady’s defense. 

“Oh, he couldn’t be, just look at him, Klucky! No one could ever act so well.” Marian scolds, her sharp teeth flashing as she huffs, and whirls away in a flurry of skirts and a floof of tail-fur.

“Sir? Oh sir?” She calls, gently, sidling up alongside the beggar, watching as he cautiously tilts his head to catch her voice. 

“Surely my old ears aren’t hearing such a melodious voice calling for me.” The beggar muses, almost to himself, but startles into silence when she places a paw carefully on his arm. Up close, she is even more certain that this isn´t her beloved ' the patches of fur she can see between cloak and drooping hat are matted and dull, so unlike the sleek softness she remembers. She holds up her purse, letting the coins jangle a little to help explain herself.

“Please sir, I have alms for you.” Marian ignores the warmth in her cheeks – Lady Kluck would call her a soft touch, and probably be right. 

“Oh, thankee kindly, lady, thankee! Such a kindness, warms the cockles of my old heart, so it does.” Marian can hear Lady Kluck huffing in disbelief at the nearly theatrical thanks, but she pays more attention to the old fox’s gentle, awkwardly curled paws as he tries to shake hers in effusive praise. 

“Oh, no, it is hardly anything so grand, but hopefully enough to give you ease, sir.” She assures him, “And… oh, wait here.” She urges, flitting away again in a sudden fit of good will. It is the work of a moment to buy a small packet of roasted chestnuts, the small bundle pleasantly warm as she carries it back and presses it gently into the old fox’s paws. “For you sir, please.” 

She enjoys the slowly dawning smile, delighted and awed, as the beggar realizes what he is holding. Finally Lady Kluck succeeds in shepherding her away, fretting over what she’s supposed to do with such an impetuous charge. She looks over her shoulder once, and is struck by the sheer luck that the old fox appears to be looking back, and she can appreciate his happy smile once more before he is lost to the crowd.

Once they are back to the castle, Lady Kluck is helping her out of her cloak when a small parchment, the curl tied shut with a bright red bow, falls from the now-loose sleeve, to their surprise. Marian stoops to retrieve it, unwrapping her unexpected prize nimbly. Written on the parchment in a neat, cramped script, is a set of lines.

‘Whatever I say, whatever I sing,  
Whatever I do, that heart shall see  
That I shall serve with heart loving  
That loving heart that loveth me.’

She gasps, staring at Lady Kluck with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Could this be from him? Oh Klucky, do you think he does remember me? But who could it have been? I was keeping such careful watch.” She asks, clutching the scrap of parchment to her heart. Lady Kluck has no real answer for her other than the oft-repeated reassurance that her love of younger years is still true, despite being so long apart. Marian floats through the remainder of her day, counting the parchment as the best gift she has received this year.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is not my own - it is a more modern translation I found here: (https://aclerkofoxford.blogspot.com/2014/06/a-medieval-love-poem-heart-that-loveth.html), which is from a poem from the Canterbury Cathedral Library. I thought it fit fairly well, and makes up for my poetic lacking. Robin, however, is a poet forced to be a social activist and daring townsfolk rescuer.


End file.
